


First Love

by SoThere



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, The Man in the Moon (1991 Film)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-02 12:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8667541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoThere/pseuds/SoThere
Summary: Primrose Everdeen makes a friend in new neighbor Peeta Mellark and looks forward to spending her summer days with him at the creek. But when he finally meets her sister, Katniss, Prim finds she has some competition for Peeta’s time… and affections. Loosely based on the film The Man in the Moon.





	1. Chapter 1

I love the summers. Finally free from the restriction of school, every day is a new adventure. I can explore the outdoors, swim in the waterhole, and play with my goat, Lady. Even nighttime is magical. We open all the windows, trying to capture a hint of a breeze, and the sounds of nature lull me to sleep.

Summer is anything but magical for my sister, Katniss. Ever since our father died four years ago, she’s been working her summers away. The moment school lets out, her part-time job at the local market turns into a full-time commitment. Most weeks she’s working right up until Saturday, taking extra shifts whenever her co-workers want time off. The only day she takes off consistently is Sunday, and that’s only because the market is closed.

I feel bad that Katniss works so hard, but I know it’s necessary. Before she was old enough to take on more hours, the bills started piling up and there were nights we went to bed hungry. I’ve offered to babysit or get a paper route, anything to help out, but she won’t hear of it. Not that she has much choice; I turn 13 this September, and I’m going to get a job whether she likes it or not.

So this is my last summer of freedom, tranquility and lazy days. My last summer of childhood.

Of course, my time isn’t completely my own. I have chores around the farm; taking care of the animals, cleaning out the barn, and of course the usual laundry and dishes my friends are always griping about. But they don’t bother me much, because I know as long as I finish up by lunchtime, the rest of the day is all mine.

This morning, my mother asked me to do some extra cleaning to prepare for a visit. A childhood friend of hers recently moved back to Panem county. He was someone she knew when she grew up in the center of town, back before she married dad and moved to his family farm. The two reconnected when she saw him at the market, and she invited him to come to dinner with us. Tonight.

Scrubbing the floors – a job I  _ detest  _ – takes longer than I had planned, and by the time I wrap up the rest of my chores it’s midafternoon. The sun is blazing in the sky and the air is heavy. Sweat trickles down my collar and plasters my shirt to my torso. There’s only one thing that could turn my mood around: a nice swim in the creek.

My swimming hole of choice is a small creek that follows part of the border between our property and the old Undersee farm. The Undersees owned that farm for generations, but the family fell on hard times when I was younger.  After her sister was killed in a domestic dispute, Mrs. Undersee had a nervous breakdown. They had a daughter the same age as Katniss, and eventually the household just became too much for her husband to handle on his own. They moved up north so he could find work closer to his cousin, and the farm has been abandoned ever since.

When I arrive at the creek, I quickly shed my shoes and clothes and jump in from my favorite boulder. I haven’t had a swim suit that fit me in years, but we’re so isolated out here, I’ve become accustomed to swimming in my underwear. I’m still so flat there’s not much point in wearing much else, especially when I’m swimming alone.

I surface and wipe the water out of my eyes, sighing as the breeze blows across the droplets on my skin. The water is warm, bath-like, but it’s still a relief from this hot, muggy day.

“Hey!”

I shriek and spin around, startled by the deep voice behind me. A boy with concerned blue eyes is studying me from a few feet away, standing in shallow water close to the bank. The waves lapping at his knees draw my attention to the fact that he’s only wearing a pair of orange boxer shorts.  His blond hair is a mess of unruly curls, and his broad shoulders are so fair I can’t help but hope he’s wearing sunscreen.

“What the heck are you doing here? Get out!” I command, ducking farther beneath the surface and making sure that only my neck is exposed. “You’re trespassing!”

“ _ Me? _ ” he scoffs. “ _ You’re _ the one that’s trespassing!” His abs tighten as he laughs, and I’m distracted by the ripple of his muscles.

“Am not!” I call out. “This is the old Undersee place, and I know for a fact that YOU are not an Undersee!”

“Correction. This  _ was  _ the old Undersee place. Now it’s the new Mellark place. And I know for a fact that YOU are not a Mellark.” He quirks an eyebrow and puts his hands on his hips, challenging me to dispute him.

I squint at him, trying to determine if he’s lying. Now that I think about it, I did hear my sister talking about the farm finally being put up for sale after standing abandoned for all those years. And it seems like an awfully elaborate lie to come up with just to swim in our little watering hole.

“ _ Fine _ .” I groan and slap at the water, conceding defeat. He raises both eyebrows at me, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “You’ve ruined my mood, But I’ll have you know this creek is half ours. And I’m not going to let you keep me from it the whole summer. Now turn around so I can get out!”

The boy laughs and turns around, folding his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like there’s all that much to see anyway, kid.”

My cheeks flush with an overwhelming blend of rage and embarrassment. “Thank you, I am not a kid.”

“Not a kid, huh?” He keeps his back to me as I dress, but I sense the smile on his face. “What are you, 10? 11?”

My foot catches in my shorts as I hurry to redress and I nearly topple over. “I’m almost 13. I’m starting high school next year.”

“Whoo-hoo! A real lady of the world! That changes everything.”

I throw my faded t-shirt over my head, pulling it down as it sticks to my damp skin. My hair is dripping all over, making it cling to me even more. I duck behind a tree to get some privacy. “Done. You can turn around now.”

He slowly turns around, looking lost when he can’t immediately find me. Being small does has its advantages when it comes to hiding.

He wades in a few more inches until the water is just at his thighs, until finally he spies me behind the tree. “You know, I wasn’t trying to kick you out or anything. You just surprised me.”

“Nah, you ruined my swimming mood. I don’t want to stay.” I watch him for a few more minutes, reaching down to splash some of the water up onto his arms without actually submerging himself. He cups his hands full of water and uses it to wet his face and hair. He pushes the damp curls off his forehead and shakes his head a little. I’m mesmerized by the way a fat droplet moves down his nose toward his lips. “Besides, I have to get home anyway.”

“Suit yourself,” he concedes. “You can come back here whenever you want. Just be a little more careful with your wardrobe choices next time,” he warns with a smirk.

I groan, pushing myself off the tree and traipsing back home through the woods. I won’t even dignify that with a response.

*-*-*-*

When I arrive home, mom is already cooking dinner. The house is even warmer from the heat of the oven, and what little relief swimming gave me is lost the second I walk through the door.

I head into the shower to clean up and rinse some of the slime off me from the creek. Mom has laid out a nice skirt and shirt for me to wear, and within ten minutes I’m exasperated with the choice. Normally I like dressing up, but the oppressive heat is making everything stick to me. Plus, I had a growth spurt this spring and I’m starting to outgrow a lot of my clothes. This particular shirt is just a little too short and keeps coming un-tucked from the skirt. Katniss is working tonight, but I smile as I imagine her usual teasing about my “duck tail.”

Mom offers to do my hair, and weaves the damp strands into a pair of French braids. The style is a little childish, but then again, it’s cooler away from my neck. Plus I know it’ll give me nice waves tomorrow, which will be a treat since I inherited my mother’s straight blonde strands.

After setting the table and some last minute prep, I retire to my room to read in front of the fan. I’ve already read through my Red Cross handbook about a dozen times, but I love it. Mom is a nurse at a nearby clinic, and I’ve been thinking about following in her footsteps when I grow up. She’s helping me choose books from the library, and we watch marathon sessions of medical TV shows. 

Of course, we only watch them when Katniss is working; my sister can hunt, thanks to happier years with our father, but she’s brought to her knees by the sight of human blood. She nearly fainted last year when I got a cut that needed stitches.

“They’re here!” Mom calls out from the kitchen.  _ They? _ She never mentioned her friend bringing anyone else, and I only set the table for three. Maybe he’s married or something; I never thought to ask.

When I get to the kitchen, I see mom receiving a bear hug from a man with cropped blond hair. “It’s so good to see you again, Evelyn.” He steps back and gives her a warm smile. “I hope that you don’t mind me bringing Peeta along. I didn’t want him stuck home all alone for dinner.”

“Of course not, Luke. The more the merrier. Is he coming in?”

“Oh, he’s still in the truck, texting a friend from his old school. You know how kids can be. He’ll be in any minute. Is this-” He has spotted me watching them from the doorway. “This can’t be little Primrose?”

Mom turns and puts an arm around my shoulders, drawing me closer to them. “It is. Not so little anymore.” She squeezes my shoulders. “Prim, this is my good friend, Lucas Mellark.”

_ Mellark? _ As I'm trying to figure out why that sounds so familiar, the screen door opens and I recognize the mop of curls that interrupted my swimming plans. He's cleaned up, wearing a light blue polo shirt that somehow matches the shade of his eyes. A look of surprise is quickly replaced by amusement at my gaping stare.

“Sorry about that, dad. Finn is having girl issues again.”

"No worries. Come on over, Peet." Mr. Mellark puts an arm around his son's shoulders, mirroring the position mom and I are still in. He's at least six inches taller than the boy, but they have the same warm eyes and matching dimples. "Ev, you remember Peeta."

"Hello, Mrs. Everdeen. Thank you for letting me intrude on your dinner." He wraps an arm around his father's waist, his smile bright enough to light up the room.

"Don't be silly, Peeta! You're more than welcome." My mother steps forward to squeeze his shoulder before moving to the pots on the stove. "Besides, it will give Prim someone to talk to while us grown-ups are getting reacquainted." 

"Let me help you." Mr. Mellark leaves his son's side and starts to stir a pot while mom checks the contents of the oven. Peeta and I are left staring each other down.

"That sounds great. I'm sure Prim and I will have a lot of fun getting to know each other better." I roll my eyes at his playful smirk before heading into the dining room to add a fourth place setting.

*-*-*-*

"Did you know who I was? At the creek?" I hand him the dish I've just washed and he dries it carefully with a towel. "You could have just told me who you were, you know."

Peeta moves the dry stack of plates to the cabinet, and I point out the right shelf. The sound of our parents' laughter drifts in from the porch.

"I had no clue who you were. And I  _ did  _ tell you who I was, remember?" Peeta points out.

I shrug, but refuse to look up from the pan I'm scrubbing. I'm not ready to give in just yet. "I guess. I just don't see how you didn't recognize me."

Peeta laughs. "We moved away when I was six, Prim. You were only two. I think it's clear we've changed quite a bit since then."

After scrubbing for a few minutes, I decide to let the pan soak. I fill it with warm soapy water and grab the towel to dry my hands. I turn around to face Peeta, who has hopped up on the island countertop and is swinging his legs slightly.

"I don't really remember much about you, just that you used to run around in your diaper all the time and hated wearing clothes." He smirks. "So I guess not much has changed."

I chuck the damp towel at him, and he catches it in his right hand. "I'm kidding!" he laughs. "Really, that's all. I remember Katniss, though, since we were the same age. She used to wear her hair like this a lot." He tugs on one of my braids and smiles. "I used to practice my baking skills and make mud pies for her." His gaze seems to drift off with the memory, his lips curling up slightly at the corners. "We were best friends," he murmurs.

A guffaw from the porch seems to shake him from his thoughts, and he hops down and puts his hands in his pockets. "Where is your sister tonight, anyway?"

I lead him into the living room, taking a seat on the rocker and leaving him his choice of couches. "Working. She's closing at Crane's Market tonight."

"On a Saturday night?" Peeta asks. 

"Every Saturday. Pretty much every day. She's  _ always  _ working." I mean to sound sympathetic, but there's a hint of bitterness in my voice. I appreciate Katniss for working so hard, but sometimes it would just be nice to have my sister around.

"That's too bad," Peeta replies. "I had hoped to catch up with her some time, too. Guess I’ll have to settle for the pleasure of your company." His smile is so warm, I would almost swear my cheeks are on fire.

"Do you work?" I ask, clearing my throat.

"Yeah, but not for money," he says. "I'm helping dad around the farm, trying to get some of the old equipment up and running.” He shakes his head. “I gotta be honest, my dad’s kind of like the city mouse transplanted out here in the country. He's a baker at heart, so he knows a lot about wheat, it's just... usually... post-harvest." 

He slaps his hands down on his thighs and wipes off his palms on his shorts. "Anyway, we're doing our best. Luckily, our past in the bakery means we're not afraid of early hours, which has been great with this heat. By the afternoon we're calling it quits for the day, and I can go to the creek or read or paint; whatever I want."

"Paint the house?" I ask, earning me a nervous laugh.

"No, um, like 'artwork' painting. On a canvas." 

I watch his big hands as he rubs them mindlessly on his knees and try to imagine them holding a small paintbrush, painting delicate lines. "Wow."

He shrugs, looking down at the floor. "I know. Kind of lame, right?"

"No," I insist. "No, actually I was thinking it's pretty cool. I’d love to see your work sometime."

He looks back up, a grateful grin on his face. "Yeah. I think that can be arranged."

After Mom and Mr. Mellark finish their catching up, we all say goodbye on the porch.

“Now Miss Primrose, I’m hoping you and your sister will be around this summer to keep my Peeta company. He doesn’t really know anyone else around here, and we’re such close neighbors, it would be a shame not to get to know each other better.”

I nod. “Definitely, Mr. Mellark.”

“Maybe Prim and I can even meet up at the creek sometime,” Peeta says with a mischievous grin. 

I roll my eyes, trying to hide my pleased smile.

*-*-*-*

I get myself ready for bed. It’s after 10, but I’m still too wound up for sleep. The possibilities for this summer have just shifted. I was prepared to be lonely, my sister gone all the time, my mother keeping herself too busy to be much company. And now, I’ve got a new friend. Everything is different.

My bed is beside the only window in our shared room. Katniss let me have this side (in exchange for the bigger half of the closet) so I could get the benefit of the breeze on the warm summer nights. I lay down and stare out the window at the stars.

A few minutes later, I hear a familiar truck pulling up the driveway and watch Gale Hawthorne drive up to the front of the house. Both doors slam as Gale and Katniss get out of the truck. Our families have been friends for years. He works at the butcher counter of Crane’s market, and whenever possible, he and Katniss ride into work together. In fact, he’s the one who helped get her the job at the market in the first place. 

Katniss leans against the passenger door for a minute, talking. I can’t hear exactly what she’s saying, but I can tell she’s worked up because she keeps waving her hands around. Gale walks around to her and is just listening for a minute when suddenly, he leans in and kisses her hard on the mouth. She is frozen in place and looks shocked at first, but then she flattens both palms against his chest and shoves him away from her.

She disappears from my sight, and I can hear the front door open and then slam.

“Catnip! I’m sorry, okay! I had to do that, at least once…” Gale trails off as he shouts to the closed door. He glances up at our window and I push myself out of view, the curtain swinging traitorously beside me. 

I shuffle to the head of my bed and throw the sheet over my shoulders as my sister stomps up the stairs to our room. I hear her kick her shoes off and throw a piece of clothing to the floor. 

“I know you’re awake over there, Prim. You really need to work on your spying skills.” I open my eyes and watch her furiously work at the buttons on her shirt. “Ugh!” She finally gives up and sits down heavily on her bed, burying her face in her hands. “Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to go and ruin everything?” she mumbles through her fingers.

I throw back the covers and move to sit beside her on her bed, putting my arm around her. Katniss leans into me, sighing. “I don’t even know where that came from. I thought we were friends!”

“You are friends,” I say, gathering her hair back. “That’s probably why he waited so long to say something.”

She sits up straighter and looks at me, a look of shock on her face. “What? What are you talking about?” 

_ Can a person really be that clueless? _ I wonder. Then I remember I’m talking to Katniss. “Gale’s liked you for a long time,” I say softly. “Anyone watching could see it.”

She just stares at me for a few minutes, her mouth gaping. Finally she shakes her head and closes her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t feel that way about him. About  _ anyone _ . And I never will. I’m never falling in love or getting married.”

“Katniss, don’t say that. Someday, you’ll change your mind, want to have kids-”

“ _ Never _ , Prim. Love… it causes nothing but problems.” She gets up and grabs her nightgown. “And it’s not fair to bring kids into a life like this.”

She marches out into the hallway and slams the bedroom door behind her.

*-*-*-*

“Have you ever been in love?”

I float past Peeta, lying on my back. Since we started meeting up most afternoons, I modified one of Katniss’s old bathing suits so I can swim more freely.

“Love?” he asks with a chuckle, splashing water at me with his toe. “Isn’t it a little soon to be thinking about love? We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks.”

“What?!” I lose my concentration and start to sink. I quickly recover and tread water, my face flaming. “I wasn’t- I didn’t-” 

“I’m teasing, Prim!” Peeta laughs easily. He reaches a hand down and helps me climb up onto the rock beside him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” I grumble, but I can’t bring myself to meet his eyes.

“Hey.” He grabs my towel and wraps it around me, bumping my shoulder with his. “I was just joking. We’re friends, right?”

I finally look over, into blue eyes so kind and warm they melt my shame away. “Yeah,” I chuckle.

“Alrighty then.” He swings his legs, cooling his toes in the water. “So. Love? No. Can’t say that I’ve ever been in love.”

I feel a confusing swirl of emotions - surprise? relief? - but I keep my face neutral. “Never?”

He thinks for a moment. “Well, there was this one girl…” He smiles, a strange wistful expression, and shakes his head. “But it was more like a crush. We were really young.”

I stare out at the water, wondering who his mystery girl might be, when he bumps me in the shoulder again. “So, I have to know. Why did you ask? Is there someone from school-”

“No!” I shake my head insistently. “It wasn’t about me. It was about my sister.”

“Katniss?” he asks with a frown. The two of them still haven’t had a chance to meet since she always seems to be working. “Has she fallen in love with someone?”

“No, the opposite. She says she never wants to fall in love. That it ruins everything.”

“Really?” He looks genuinely surprised, and a little sad. “Well, I happen to believe the opposite. Love is… hope. Sometimes, in your darkest moments, it’s the only light you can find. The only thing that keeps you fighting. Love doesn’t make you weak; it’s the source of your strength.”

The mood has grown too serious for my liking, so I shed my towel and jump back into the water, splashing him. “Sounds like you know what you’re talking about. Maybe you can convince Katniss she’s wrong. She never listens to me.”

He laughs. “Maybe I can. I’m pretty persuasive.” He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles at me, his cheeks pink from the sun.

I smile, but deep down, I know my sister. As stubborn as she is, I don’t think even sweet Peeta Mellark could convince her of the power of love.

*-*-*-*

“Why do we have to do this?” Katniss grumbles as she fidgets with the blue dress my mother made her wear. “It’s my first night off all week. I just want a quiet night alone.”

“Because Luke is my friend. And he and Peeta have been looking forward to seeing you again,” my mother says.

Katniss rolls her eyes. “Me? Why? What’s so special about me?”

“You’re my  _ daughter _ . That’s what.” Mom straightens the collar on Katniss’s dress. “Now stop it. You and Peeta were good friends. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

“When we were six! I barely remember anything about him, except that he was three inches shorter than me and his hair was always in his eyes.”

I laugh as I set the table. “He’s definitely gotten taller. But his hair is still too long. The curls get all tangled in knots.”

“His  _ curls _ ?” Katniss asks, intrigued. “You seem to have noticed an awful lot about Mudpie Mellark. Why is that, Prim?”

“I have not.” I can feel my face flaming, and I busy myself with straightening the silverware. “We meet up at the creek most afternoons, so of course I would notice something like that. We’re friends,” I add, emphasizing the word too strongly.

“ _ Friends _ , huh?” Katniss teases. “Sounds more like somebody’s got a crush.”

“Knock it off, Katniss,” mom says. “Stop antagonizing your sister and get the napkins set out. They should be here soon. Prim, you can go ahead and get washed up.”

I head upstairs into the bathroom and splash cool water on my cheeks. Stupid Katniss, always trying to get to me. Of course I don’t have a crush on Peeta Mellark. The very thought is ridiculous. 

I study myself in the mirror, trying to see past the little girl features to the woman underneath, waiting to emerge. She’s nowhere to be found.

I let out a sigh. Even if I did have a crush on Peeta, there’s no way he’d be interested in a kid like me.

“They’re here!” I hear my mother call from downstairs. I dry my hands and take a deep breath before heading down to greet them.

As I round the corner, I see our parents through the window, talking on the porch. Peeta is standing in the entryway with Katniss. He’s wearing his pale blue shirt again, a remarkable match to the blue of my sister’s dress.

“Hi,” Peeta says as he reaches out a hand to Katniss. She puts her hand in his, shaking slowly.

“Hi,” Katniss says back, her voice soft and timid. 

“It’s so good to see you again,” he says.

“You, too.” She shakes her head slightly. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown. You’re so… big.”

Peeta laughs, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Funny the difference a decade will make. And a spot on the wrestling team.”

“You wrestle?” Katniss asks. She seems to realize she’s still clinging to his hand and drops it as though she’s been burned, wiping hers on the back of her dress.

“I did,” he says, shrugging. “At my old school anyway. Not sure I’ll make it on the team here next year.”

“You will!” she exclaims, then drops her voice. “I mean, you look strong. They’d probably be happy to have you.” 

Peeta beams at her. “Thanks,” he says shyly, then clears his throat. “Um, I brought these. For you.” He hands her a plate full of cookies wrapped in plastic wrap. “They’re peanut butter.”

“My favorite,” Katniss murmurs. “How did you know?”

“I remembered. You always used to ask your dad for peanut butter cookies after we had lunch.”

“Wow,” Katniss says, her eyes locked on his. “You have a remarkable memory.”

“Oh, I remember everything about you,” he says, his blue eyes twinkling. My stomach sinks as I watch him gaze at her. I know that look. It’s the same moony one Gale has been giving my sister for months. 

Too bad Katniss is about to break Peeta’s heart, now, too.

Or is she? I glance at Katniss as a smile creeps to her face. After a few moments, she finally tears her eyes from his and back to the cookies.  

Is she  _ blushing _ ? What the heck is happening? I have to put an end to this.

“Mom? Is dinner ready?” I call through the screen door. Peeta and Katniss both turn their focus to me, wearing a matched look of confusion, as though I’d woken both of them from the same dream.

“Oh, hey Prim,” Peeta says, giving me one of his easy smiles. “How’s it going?” 

“Fine,” I answer, watching as his eyes seem to flit back to Katniss, then drift away back toward me again.

Katniss says nothing, just smiles at me while clutching that stupid plate of cookies.

*-*-*-*

Dinner is more of the same. 

The two of them share hushed conversation on one side of the table as they catch up on a decade of their lives. 

I try to interject from time to time, just to remind them I’m still here.

“Peeta’s been showing me some of his paintings,” I say, as Katniss is talking about her favorite classes. “They’re really good.”

“You paint?” she asks, never bothering to look back at me. “That’s great. I remember you always loved art. You were constantly drawing pictures on any scrap of paper you could find.”

Peeta laughs. “I wasn’t very good. I used to try to draw pictures of you, after we moved. I could never seem to capture the essence of you. It was mostly just really elaborate pictures of braids.” He fingers a strand of her hair, letting it slip between his fingers. “I missed you so much.”

I want to gag on my mashed potatoes.

“He was heartbroken,” Mr. Mellark adds with a chuckle. “He never really forgave us for moving him away from you.”

“I cried the whole summer after you left,” Katniss admits. “Every day.”

“She was a wreck,” Mom adds. “So forlorn. It was months before she was able to really smile again.”

“What made you smile again, Katniss?” I ask sharply. “Was it when you met Gale? When you found a new best friend in him?”

Katniss frowns at me suddenly, a look of betrayal in her eyes. Okay, maybe that was mean, but at least I’ve got their attention again. Peeta just looks between the two of us, confused.

“Who’s Gale?” he asks. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“No, he’s just a friend.” Katniss says firmly, throwing me another glare. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she adds softly, her focus on her dish.

“Just means you haven’t found the right person yet,” Peeta replies just as quietly, his eyes flitting over to her then back to his plate. The two of them focus on their food for the rest of the meal, exchanging shy smiles and looks in between bites.

I’ve lost my appetite.

*-*-*-*

“What the hell was that all about tonight, Prim?” Katniss asks, angrily brushing her hair. “Why would you mention  _ Gale  _ of all people?”

“What were  _ you  _ doing?” I ask, deflecting her questions. “ _ ‘I remember you. You used to draw. I cried when you left! _ ’” I singsong. “I thought you didn’t remember Peeta at all? You didn’t even want to have this stupid dinner!”

“Maybe seeing him brought back memories,” she says. 

“Or maybe his  _ curls _ were more interesting than you thought they’d be.”

Katniss blinks, her mouth gaping slightly. “You’re jealous,” she whispers. She drops her brush, a look of understanding spreading across her face. “That’s why you were acting like that.”

“What? I am not!”

“You are,” she repeats. “Prim-”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Katniss. I’m not jealous of you and stupid Peeta Mellark. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” I pull my covers up over my shoulder and turn my back to her.

“Prim, come on. I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“Good night,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut and willing myself not to do something stupid like cry.

*-*-*-*

“Where on earth have you been?” Peeta’s waiting on his rock, feet dangling in the water and a drawing pad on his lap. “I was starting to wonder if you found a better swimming spot.”

“Nope. Just needed a break.” I pull off my t-shirt and toss it on the grass before jumping into the water with a happy sigh. I’ve missed this place. I tried to stay away, but after three days of avoiding the inevitable encounter with Peeta, I couldn’t take it anymore. 

It’s been easier to keep avoiding Katniss, though. She’s never home anyway.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you in some way, Prim,” Peeta says, a genuine look of regret on his face. “You’re a good friend. I didn’t mean to ignore you the other night.”

I don’t answer, diving under the water and coming back up to smooth out my wet hair. 

“Are we okay now?” he asks. One errant curl dips down over his eye as he watches me worriedly. It’s hard to stay mad at him.

“We’re fine,” I say, rolling my eyes dramatically.

“Good.” He nods and gives me a relieved smile. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too,” I admit, swimming back over closer to him. “What are you working on?” I ask, nodding up to the book in his lap.

“Uh…” He quickly flips past the page he was working on to another. “A whole bunch of stuff. Like that tree over there.” He shows me a pencil drawing that looks remarkably like the big oak on the side of the creek.

“Wow, that’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” he says with a shrug. “It’s nice to pick up a pencil at the end of the day instead of another tool.”

“How is everything going on the farm?”

“Pretty good. Dad’s learning a lot about on what he wants to grow next year, and I’m getting a lot better at fixing up the old machinery. I’ve almost got the tractor up and running.”

“That’s great, Peeta!”

“Thanks,” he says, a proud smile creeping to his cheeks. “So… How is everything at your house?”

“It’s fine,” I say. “Same old stuff, different day.”

“How’s… uh…” He fidgets with the binding on his book. “How’s Katniss doing?”

My heart sinks at his hopeful tone. “She’s fine, too. I guess. I never see her. She’s always at work.” I splash water at his feet, eager to change the subject. “Hey, why don’t you swim, too? You hardly ever get wet.”

He puts his drawing book safely under a tree and takes off his shirt. “I’ll come in,” he says. “But... I don’t really know how to swim.”

“You don’t?” We’ve been meeting up for three weeks now, and I never noticed that he didn’t swim. He wades, and splashes around with me, but now that I think about it, he’s never gone under the water or to the deeper parts of the creek.

“Yeah. Never really learned.”

“Do you want to learn? I can teach you.”

He wades in to his waist. “Maybe some other time. Gotta get my head around it first.” He walks a little closer to where I’m treading water. “Besides, you don’t need to know how to swim to do this-” He cups his hands in the water and sends a wave in my direction. 

I squeal and splash back at him, and he retaliates. The two of us take turns soaking each other with torrents of water. 

I laugh harder than I have in weeks, and for just a little while, I let myself pretend that he is mine. That he wants me for his own. That there is no one else in the world that could come between us.

*-*-*-*

The next night, I wake to someone shuffling and the sound of our bedroom door closing.

I sit up and glance around the room, the glow from the moon revealing that Katniss is not in bed. According to my clock, it’s after 1 AM. At first, I assume she’s gone to the bathroom, until I hear the front screen door close and soft voices drift through the open window.

I peer through the curtains to see Katniss, still in her nightgown, talking to someone in the shadows. They’re whispering, so I can’t make out the conversation. She moves closer and takes the person’s hands between her own. He steps closer to her and I gasp as I recognize the head of curls, glowing white in the moonlight.

Peeta reaches his hands up to her neck, and cups her face before slowly leaning forward to place a kiss on her lips. He pulls back and seems to pause, waiting for her reaction. 

Unlike the scene I witnessed with Gale, she reaches her arms under his and around his back, pulling him close. She initiates the kiss this time, and it quickly grows passionate, their hands reaching and touching and caressing through it all.

I lay back on my pillow, heartbroken, and let the tears fall.


	2. Chapter 2

I don’t say a word to Katniss in the morning.

She was with Peeta for nearly an hour before coming back to bed. An hour of hushed conversation under the apple tree, sitting beside him, her head on his shoulder and his hands clenched between hers.

Of course, she doesn't know I watched. I'm getting better at hiding.

When she finally came to bed, I pretended I was still sleeping, trying to ignore her happy sighs.

But she must sense something is up today, because I only respond to her with one word answers, and only when I absolutely have to. Finally, she gets her things and heads off to work, leaving me alone with my anger.

I decide to spend my day in reverse, going to the swimming hole early, when I know Peeta will be working on the farm, and doing my chores in the afternoon. I can’t face him right now.

I’m surprised to find Katniss is home when I return from my swim. It’s only lunchtime.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, breaking my silent treatment out of shock.

“Oh, I had a short shift today, and I thought I’d take advantage of it. It’s such a beautiful summer, I don’t want to miss all of it.”

My eyes narrow. Is this really my sister? Wanting to enjoy the summer? Giving up a chance at overtime? Where was this Katniss a month ago, when I was desperate to spend time with her?

“Anyway, I was going to go out and take a walk. Get some fresh air,” she explains. “I’d ask you to go, but it looks like you’ve already been out. You probably want to get cleaned up.”

I nod, but I fix her in my glare. She must feel the tension in the air, and nervously adjusts her clothing before heading to the screen door. “Well, okay. I’ll be gone for a little while, but I’ll be home in time to help you with supper.”

As I watch her leave, I can’t help but think that her nicest skirt and blouse aren't all that appropriate for a “walk.”

*-*-*-*

Katniss corners me as I brush my teeth the next night.

“Prim, I know you’re mad at me. You can’t keep ignoring me.”

I meet her eye in the mirror, but don’t remove the toothbrush from my mouth.

“Nothing happened between me and Peeta,” she says. I raise my eyebrows and stare at her until she blushes and looks away. “It didn’t mean anything,” she mumbles.

I spit and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand before turning to face her. I say nothing, just fold my arms across my chest and wait.

“I won’t let it go any further,” she says. “I know how much you care about him. I would never do that to you.”

“You promise?” I ask warily.

“I promise,” she says, pulling me into her arms. “I love you, Prim.”

“I love you, too, Katniss.” I wrap my arms around her waist, relief flooding through me.

*-*-*-*

When I meet up with Peeta at the creek a few days later, there’s a few minutes of uncomfortable silence before I decide to do a cannonball, soaking him.

He laughs and kicks water in my face when I surface, and just like that, we’re back to our easygoing friendship again.

I try not to stare into his blue eyes or memorize the curve of his strong jaw. Instead, I enjoy his company as he talks about his efforts on the farm and the blush on his cheeks when he tells me he baked the sugar cookies we share from scratch.

Neither of us mentions Katniss.

*-*-*-*

The Mellarks come for dinner again a couple of weeks later. Katniss sits beside me this time, leaving Peeta on the other side of the table alone. They barely speak, but I catch them locking eyes from time to time.

When the meal is over, Katniss gets up to clear the dishes, insisting the rest of us go into the living room to talk until dessert is ready.

“I’ll help you.” Peeta is up like a shot, holding his dish and pleading with her with his eyes. She nods, a shy smile on her lips.

I’m naturally suspicious, so after a few minutes, I excuse myself from conversation with Mom and Mr. Mellark and head toward the kitchen after them. As I round the corner from the dining room, I see Katniss locked in Peeta’s arms, her head on his chest as he strokes her back. I turn to leave, immediately angry, but hang back when I hear my sister talking.

“I don’t know how long I can go on like this,” she says.

“We don’t have to,” Peeta answers. “I hate having to hide our feelings. I _love_ you.”

“I know,” she says. “But I can’t... My sister.... I won’t hurt her, Peeta. She’s the most important person in the world to me.”

“I understand. I don’t want to hurt her either. I really care about Prim, too.”

“I know you do.”

Peeta sighs. “So... we’re friends?” he asks. “I can live with that, if I have to. As long as I can see you. Every day. I want to spend every possible minute with you, Katniss Everdeen.”

“Hmm,” Katniss says. “I guess I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, really-” Peeta says, and Katniss starts to giggle.

Finally, I hear the water turn on, and I head back to the living room.

I’m so relieved that Katniss kept her promise, that she won’t be pursuing a romance with Peeta. Sure, he wants to spend time with her, but with most of her days dedicated to work and helping our mother, there won’t be much room for that.

I do feel a little guilty, though, since he seems to really like her. But I convince myself it’s okay, that she must not really care that much about him anyway.

She never even said she loved him back.

*-*-*-*

There’s a new Katniss in the house.

She’s working more than ever, often calling when her shift ends to say she’s going to stay for overtime. But when she finally gets home, she’s smiling. Happy. It’s not an emotion I’m used to her wearing.

Part of me is still angry about Peeta. But another part - the part that loves my sister and only wants the best for her - likes seeing her smile again. This is a side of her I haven’t seen in over four years.

I get to have my afternoons with Peeta a few times a week, swimming and talking, and now I get my sister back again, too.

This summer is close to perfect.

*-*-*-*

By early August, my friend Rue is home from summer camp. I make plans to visit her one Saturday, but shortly after both Mom and Katniss leave for work, Rue calls to say she’s sick with a stomach bug and has to cancel.

With the morning wide open to myself, I decide to head to the swimming hole instead. It’s a gorgeous day, warm and sunny, and I think this afternoon might be the perfect time to convince Peeta to try those swimming lessons.

When I arrive, I’m surprised to find Peeta’s things on the ground near his favorite rock. He doesn’t usually swim in the mornings. I look around, but he’s nowhere to be seen, so I assume he went back to the farm to get something.

His drawing pad is on the ground, and my curiosity gets the best of me. I glance around one more time, then open the book.

The first sketch is of the farmhouse, the shading of afternoon light recreated in amazing detail. I flip through drawings of trees and flowers, so intricate and delicate they practically look alive. His talent overwhelms me.

A few pages in, I stumble upon a drawing of Katniss. She’s wearing the dress she wore at that first dinner, leaning against a counter with a shy smile on her face.

The next page reveals another drawing of Katniss, this time of just her face. She’s looking down, her eyes sparkling and crinkled happily. He’s captured her natural beauty and somehow enhanced it tenfold. She’s radiant.

On the next, I recognize the curve of my sister’s fingers, entwined with another pair of hands.

Page after page, it’s Katniss. All Katniss. I decide I’ve seen enough and drop the book back on the ground.

From a distance, I hear something… a small whine coming from the tall grass on the Mellark side of the creek. It sounds like someone is hurt, so I’m compelled to investigate.

I walk around the creek to a clump of trees near the edge, following the sound, when I hear a second, deeper, voice let out a moan.

I stop, a hand on the bark of a tree, and see the pale skin of someone’s back moving in the tall grass. When I hear the whine again, I recognize it as my sister’s voice.

“Peeta,” she urges with a whimper. “Oh, Peeta. _Please_.”

_Oh no_.

I have to get out of here. I step back to retreat and land on a large stick, cracking it like a shot across the open field.

Katniss is right. I _do_ have to work on my spying skills.

Peeta falls to the ground then hurries to stand up, looking around frantically while he pulls up his orange boxer shorts. The same ones he was wearing the first day I met him.

But it’s my sister who spots me first. Katniss scrambles to her knees, clasping the sides of her blouse together. Her face falls when she sees my shocked expression. “Prim. Oh- No - wait-” I back away like a trapped animal.

“Prim!” I take off running through the field and back to our farm. “ _Prim!_ ” I can hear her calling for me the whole way, her voice raw with anguish.

I ignore her. _Good_ , I think. Let her hurt. Let her feel the same pain she has inflicted on me.

*-*-*-*

“Prim!” Katniss bursts into the house and follows me up the stairs. “We need to talk about this.”

I try to slam the door in her face, but she catches it before it can close. I throw myself on my bed and pull the pillow over my head. “Prim, we need to talk,” she says again.

“No!” I shout, my voice muffled by the bedding. She sits on the bed beside me and yanks on the pillow until it comes free.

“Prim-”

I sit up and glare at her.

“You promised me, Katniss! You’ve been lying to me. Both of you.” Suddenly, it all becomes clear. “All this time… Is that what you’ve been doing when you said you were working _overtime_? Sneaking around behind my back?”

Her face pales, and her mouth moves wordlessly. I can see I’ve hit on the truth. I study her, taking in her mussed hair and rumpled clothes. She missed a button in her haste to redress, and I can see she isn’t wearing a bra.

“You disgust me,” I spit out.

“Prim,” she whispers, visibly hurt. Her pain only serves to empower me.

“How long, Katniss? How long have you been... his... _whore_?”

She slaps my cheek, hard, shocking both of us. She stands up, her hands flying to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Prim, I didn’t mean-”

“I HATE YOU!” I scream, and run to the bathroom, the only room in the house with a lock on it.

We sit on opposite sides of the wooden door. I curl in a ball on the floor and sob. I can hear her crying, too, and periodically call my name and knock on the door.

Eventually, I fall asleep. I wake a few hours later, my back aching from the hard tile floor. It’s quiet in the hall, so I open the door a bit to see if Katniss is still there. She’s nowhere to be found, and the house is silent.

Mom is working a double shift, so I make myself a sandwich and tea, then head to bed. Despite the heat, I pull the blankets up and attempt to hide from the world.

Katniss returns home a few hours later. I hear her climb the stairs and enter our room. “I took care of it, Prim,” she says, her voice raspy and hollow. “It’s over.”

She sniffles and leaves the room. My tears start anew.

*-*-*-*

I don’t speak to her for days.

It doesn’t really matter. Katniss has stopped talking to me, too; she seems to have finally given up on trying to repair our relationship.

She’s not working late anymore - or whatever that _really_ was. She comes home immediately after her shifts every day, stays home on Sunday, and even some Saturdays, to help around the farm.

The smile that she was wearing for all those weeks, the happy moods, they’re all gone.

At least I recognize my sister again by the familiar scowl on her face.

*-*-*-*

“We’re going to the Mellarks for dinner tonight,” my mother announces one Sunday morning in late August.

“Mom, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Katniss says.

“Luke invited us, and I’m not going to be rude and turn him down.”

“I’m not feeling so well,” Katniss tries again. “Maybe I should stay home while you and Prim go.”

My mother frowns, looking between the two of us. “I’m not sure what’s going on between the two of you lately, but this silent treatment is getting out of control. You are sisters, and you will be for the rest of your days. You need to remember that.”

I stare at the floor, unwilling to meet either of their eyes. Mom just sighs. “In any case, our friends have invited us to visit, and the three of us are going. _Together_.” She levels us with one last look before leaving the room.

Katniss turns to face me, her gray eyes mournful. “I’m so, _so_ sorry, Prim,” she says sadly. I’ve lost count of how many apologies she’s attempted at this point, but my response is the same: I ignore her. I turn my back and fold my arms across my chest.

Finally, I hear her steps retreat out onto the porch, the screen door closing softly behind her.

*-*-*-*

“Well, good afternoon!” Mr. Mellark gives each of us a kiss on the cheek and guides us onto his porch. “I’m so glad you all could make it. Our first guests since we moved in, and it’s three beautiful ladies!”

“Thank you for having us, Luke,” Mom says with a smile.

“Have a seat,” he insists, pouring each of us a glass of lemonade. I deliberately choose the rocking chair farthest away from Katniss. “Peeta and I have been looking forward to this night for a while. Finally got our kitchen in order and ready for company.”

“Where is Peeta?” Mom asks.

“He’s out in the field still. Damn tractor broke down again, but I think he finally got it up and running. He should be back soon.” He looks between Katniss and me. “He’s really been looking forward to seeing you girls again,” he says cheerfully. I nod and give him a polite smile, but Katniss only stares at her feet wordlessly.

Mom and Mr. Mellark make small talk about the heat and the upcoming harvest. Katniss rocks in her chair, listening to them with a blank expression on her face. I take a chance to survey the farm for the first time and spot a pigpen nearby with three small piglets inside. I remember Peeta telling me that he feeds them the burnt scraps from his failed baking experiments.

Moments later, the calm is interrupted by a terrible scream. It’s distant, but something in the sound sends chills up my spine.

“That’s Peeta,” Mr. Mellark says, standing suddenly. He starts down the steps, slowly at first, then faster as the cries continue. The three of us look at at each other for a moment, stunned, then follow behind him, running to the edge of the field where we can see the tractor lying on its side, the engine still sputtering.

Katniss reaches the scene a few steps ahead of me and screams. “ _Peeta_!” She drops to her knees beside him.

It’s a scene more fit for a medical drama on television than real life. Peeta lies on the ground, his leg badly mangled, a pool of blood growing beneath him. He’s conscious, but barely, looking up at us helplessly.

“Oh my god - Peeta!” Mr. Mellark kneels next to him, grasping his hand and looking up at my mother desperately. “Evelyn, please, please help him! Oh god, please help my boy.”

My mom goes into nurse mode instantly and gets to work, her face stony and focused. “Katniss, run back to the house and call 911.”

“No…” Katniss moans, shaking her head. “I won’t leave him.”

“Katniss, I won’t have you passing out-” Mom begins, but Katniss shakes her head harder.

“ _No_!” She slumps down, prostrate beside him and cradles his head in her arms. “Mom, please-”

Mom nods, looking up to Peeta’s father. “Luke, go. Quickly. Tell them that he’s losing a lot of blood. I’m going to try to stop the bleeding.” Mr. Mellark takes off back to the house. “Prim, get my first aid kit from the truck.” I rush to the driveway and bring the bag back to Mom.

Katniss carefully eases Peeta’s head into her lap. “Peeta?” she croons, stroking his hair gently, tears pooling in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his breath ragged and rapid. “It’s all my fault. I was so excited about... seeing you again… I … I wasn’t paying attention. And the blade…”

“Shh…” Katniss says. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Mom rips back the bloody pants, exposing his leg. The wound is deep, right down to the bone. I let out an involuntary gasp, startling Katniss.

“What? What is it?” she asks.

I just shake my head. “Nothing,” I say. “Just keep him calm.”

Mom and I get work trying to stop the bleeding. Mr. Mellark comes back and helps us as best he can.

“Mom’s a healer, you know. She’s going to fix you right up,” Katniss tells Peeta, brushing the hair back from his forehead. “You’ve got to try out for the wrestling team in a few weeks, right?”

“I don't know if... I’m going to be much for wrestling anytime soon,” he says with a weak laugh. “Ah!” He screams in pain as Mom cleans around the wound.

“You're hurting him!” Katniss shouts, but Peeta just shakes his head and squeezes her hand.

“No, they're just trying to help.” He grimaces and closes his eyes. “Talk to me. Tell me a story.”

“A story?” she asks. “I don't... I don't know any stories.”

“Something happy. Tell me about... the happiest day you can remember,” he says.

She glances at us, then leans down to whisper something in his ear. Peeta smiles, opening his eyes to gaze into hers.

“Me too,” he whispers back.

“This isn’t working,” my mother says, reaching for her bag again. “He’s losing too much blood.”

“Should we try a tourniquet?” I ask. Mom just nods, ripping some clean rags and grabbing a nearby stick.

“You’re so beautiful,” Peeta says, his voice weakening. He reaches up and slides a lock of her dark hair through his fingers. “Will you sing for me? You had such a pretty voice when we were kids.”

Katniss never sings, not since our father died. But she can’t deny Peeta’s request now. She swallows hard, and wipes the tears from her eyes before letting the song fall from her lips. I recognize the lullaby our father used to sing to us so many years ago.  
  
_Deep in the meadow, under the willow_   
_A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_   
_Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_   
_And when again they open, the sun will rise._   
_Here it's safe, here it's warm_   
_Here the daisies guard you from every harm_   
_Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_ _  
_ Here is the place where I love you.

As she sings the last line, her voice breaks.

“Thank you,” he says, a blissful smile on his face. “You sing like an angel.” Katniss shakes her head and begins to sob.

“It’s okay, Katniss,” Peeta murmurs. “Please, don’t cry.”

He reaches up to wipe away her tears, his trembling fingers leaving a thin trail of blood on her cheek. She grabs at his fingers and holds them to her face, pressing wet kisses to his palm.

Peeta closes his eyes again. “I’m so tired, Katniss.”

“Peeta, no, please. Stay awake.” Her voice wobbles. “Stay with me.”

“Always,” he whispers, so faintly I can barely hear it. His skin is taking on a concerning shade of gray.

The sound of an ambulance echos in the distance, perking Katniss up. “They’re coming, Peeta. They’re almost here.” He doesn’t respond. The only sound is his labored breathing as his chest rises and falls rapidly. “Peeta?”

Mr. Mellark meets the ambulance at the driveway and ushers them to Peeta’s side. Mom and I step aside as they quickly triage him and move him carefully onto a gurney. Katniss refuses to let go of him, until Mom finally convinces her that they can work faster if we stay out of the way.

“Pulse is thready and weak,” one of the EMTs says as they wheel him back to the ambulance. “He’s lost a lot of blood. We’ve got to get him to Capitol General.”

“I want to come with him,” Katniss begs. “Please.”

“Are you family?”

“No, but-”

“I’m sorry, we can only allow one family member to ride along.”

“ _Please_ ,” she begs, her voice so full of pain it brings tears to my eyes.

“I’m his father,” Mr. Mellark says. “I’ll come.” He climbs into the back of the ambulance behind them.

“We’ll drive over and meet you,” Mom says. Mr. Mellark nods as they close the doors.

Katniss lays her palms flat on the ambulance doors. As they pull away, she crumbles to a heap on the ground. Mom looks at me, and together the two of us help Katniss to her feet and into the car.

*-*-*-*

“Excuse me - miss. Is there any update? My son - Peeta Mellark -”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the nurse says, holding up her hand to stop him. “He’s still in surgery. As soon as the doctors have an update, someone will let you know.” Mr. Mellark nods and sits back down next to my mother. She takes his hand and squeezes it as he stares blankly at the wall.

Katniss and I are sprawled out on a bench against the opposite wall. She has her head in my lap and I’m mindlessly stroking her hair. Sometime over the past few hours, she cried herself to sleep.

I listen to the din of the hospital, bells and alarms and hushed conversations, and wait.

Finally, a serious woman dressed in blue scrubs heads toward our group. Mom and Mr. Mellark both stand to greet her. I stiffen in anticipation, waking my sister from her sleep. Katniss sits up and looks around at us, disoriented for a moment before setting her eyes on the doctor.

“I’m Dr. Paylor,” the doctor explains, “the surgeon on Peeta’s case.”

“Doctor - how is he?” Mr. Mellark asks.

“Did Peeta... Did he make it?” Katniss asks in a small voice.

“Yes,” Dr. Paylor says. “He’s a very lucky young man. He's in critical condition and we’re treating him with IV antibiotics to prevent infection. We’ve saved his leg for now, but he has a long road ahead of him.”

“Can I see him?” Katniss pleads. The doctor shakes her head.

“He’s in the ICU at the moment. Only immediate family members are allowed in to visit.” She gives Katniss a sympathetic smile when she sees her face drop. “He’s still unconscious at this point anyway. What he needs most of all is his rest. When he wakes, I’ll be sure to have the nurses tell him you’re here.”

Dr. Paylor walks Mr. Mellark to the ICU unit down the hall.

“I’m going to talk to the unit nurses,” Mom says. “Get more details on his condition. Are you girls okay?”

We both nod, and she heads down the hall, leaving us alone. Katniss leans back against the bench as though all the air has been let out of her.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask. “Do you want something to eat?”

“No, I’m fine,” she says. “I can’t eat anything right now. You?”

“No.” I know how she feels. The adrenaline from this afternoon has ruined any chance of an appetite.

We’re quiet for a while, sitting with our shoulders nearly touching. I haven’t been this close to her in weeks. Finally, I mumble the words that have been running through my head the past few hours: “You stayed.”

“What?” she asks.

“You stayed. You-” I shrug. “You hate blood. Stuff like this - you usually can’t handle it. But you stayed.”

She looks down at her hands. “I had no choice,” she says, her voice broken.

“Because you love him.” It’s not a question. She looks at me, her eyes welling up with fresh tears, and nods silently.

A world of guilt weighs upon me, and I begin to cry.

“I’m so sorry, Katniss. I didn’t know. I mean, I knew you liked each other, but I thought - you were just - I didn’t think -” I cover my face with my hands. She loves him. _How did I not see?_

But, deep down, I know the truth: I didn’t _want_ to see. I guess Katniss isn’t the only one who misses what’s right in front of her.

“You _love_ each other,” I mumble from between my fingers, “and I kept you apart. You must hate me.”

“No,” Katniss says, peeling my hands from my face. “No. It’s not your fault, Prim. I knew how you felt about him. I never should have let him in. But he has this way... of… working his way into your heart. You know?”

I nod. I do know.

“I didn’t want any of this,” Katniss groans and wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I never wanted to feel this way. But he snuck up on me. And now…” She rubs at a patch of dried blood on her skirt. “I don’t know how I can ever live without him.”

She lays her head on my shoulder with a sigh. I put an arm around her shoulders, and together, we wait.

*-*-*-*

Peeta’s not doing well.

Despite the doctors’ efforts, his leg will not heal. It becomes infected, the flesh around the wound beginning to die. The doctors finally recommend amputation in an effort to save his life. He still hasn’t regained consciousness, so Mr. Mellark has the agonizing responsibility of authorizing the surgery without Peeta’s knowledge.

Katniss is not doing well either.

Since the accident, she’s been a wreck. She’s barely eating. She rarely sleeps, and when she does, she wakes from nightmares, screaming his name.

I’m doing okay, but I have a horrible sense of guilt; that somehow, what Mom and I did for Peeta wasn’t enough - or even worse, might have contributed to his suffering. But Mom insists we did what we could to save his life.

Either way, it’s makes me a little less sure about my future as a doctor. I need to find a way to balance my desire to help with the potential to sometimes hurt.

Katniss spends as much time as possible at the hospital. But we’re back in school, so between classes and work, there’s never enough time. At least I’ve finally convinced her to let me help out so she doesn’t have to work so much. I babysit for Rue’s cousins on weekends and even get a job before school at Crane’s Market, sweeping and cleaning the floors.

I find it fitting; somehow my least favorite chore has become my penance.

With all my efforts, I make enough money to let Katniss take a night or two off each week. She spends them at Peeta’s bedside, holding his hand in silence. He’s been moved to a regular room, but is still unconscious. At least she gets some comfort from being by his side.

I'm tired all the time now, but it's the satisfying exhaustion of knowing you’ve accomplished something. And it’s the least I can do, after keeping them apart for so long.

I don’t think I’ll never forgive myself for that.

*-*-*-*

As autumn unfolds, things slowly start improving.

Peeta wakes and is given the news about his leg. His memories of the past few weeks are foggy, and the shock and grief cause him to erupt in a fit of anger.

“I don’t know what to do, Evelyn.” I spy on Mom and Mr. Mellark as they chat on the porch. “Maybe I made the wrong decision.”

“You did the right thing,” Mom says. “He’ll come around.”

“He threw a water pitcher at me!”

“Well, at least he’s getting his strength back?” Mom adds hopefully.

Mr. Mellark chuckles. “What would I do without you?” he asks softly, taking her hand and brushing the back of it against his lips.

Oh yeah, Mom and Mr. Mellark. They’re together now. I guess there’s more than one thing I’ve been missing this summer.

*-*-*-*

Katniss putters around in our bedroom one afternoon after school.

“Aren’t you going to see Peeta?” I ask. She hasn’t been to the hospital all week.

“Why should I bother? He won’t talk to me,” she grumbles, shoving some clothes into her drawer.

“He’s grieving,” I say. “It’s normal. He’s going to need his friends now more than ever.”

Katniss scoffs but says nothing.

“I thought you loved him?” I challenge.

She whirls to face me, and I can see tears in her eyes. “I do. You know I do.”

Something occurs to me. “Does he?”

“What?”

“Does _he_ know? Did you ever tell _him_ that you love him?”

She folds her arms across her chest and tries to cover her pain with an angry expression, but the anguish underneath is clear. Finally, she shrugs helplessly.

“Katniss,” I sigh. I take her hand and lead her to sit on my bed beside me. It’s times like this that I wonder who the big sister really is. “You have to tell him. Sometimes people need to hear those things out loud.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she says in a small voice.

“Just say what’s in your heart,” I suggest. She looks at me, still unsure. “I’ll go with you, for support,” I insist. I glance out the window at the beautiful golden sunset filling the evening sky. “Tonight. It’s not too late.”

She follows my eye and studies the rays with a small smile. “That’s his favorite color,” she murmurs. Finally she squares her shoulders and looks at me, more determined. “Okay. Let’s go.”

*-*-*-*

I watch through the small window of the hospital room door.

Katniss sits on a chair beside his bed, her back to me. Peeta is turned away from her, looking out the window.

She speaks, taking breaks occasionally and looking down at where she clutches his limp hand. She must finally blurt it out, because he stops his pouting and finally looks at her, stunned. He’s frowning slightly, his eyes searching her face incredulously. She looks up and speaks again, and a tear rolls down his cheek.

He tugs on her hand, and she stands. She carefully climbs into the bed beside him, burying her face in his neck as his arms wrap tightly around her. He clings to her, laughing and crying at the same time. She lifts her head, and his hands cradle her face gently as she slowly leans down to kiss him.

Satisfied, I step back and move toward the waiting area in the hallway to give them some privacy. I sit down with my book and brush a stray tear from my eye. I’m happy for my sister, so happy to see her finally give in to love. And I’m proud of myself for doing the right thing.

The good feelings are so strong that I can practically ignore the twinge of pain underneath.

*-*-*-*

The receptionist at the front desk takes my name and directs me down the hall to room 112.

Since that night a few weeks ago, Peeta’s recovery has blossomed. He talked with Mr. Mellark - Luke, he insists we call him - and apologized for his behavior. He started weekly sessions with Dr. Aurelius, a therapist who specializes in the grief experienced by amputees. And to focus on his physical healing, he was moved to a rehabilitation center to build up his strength to prepare for a prosthetic leg.

I can’t help but think I played a part in helping turn things around. Maybe I’m a better healer than I thought.

When I get to his room, Katniss is already there, perched on the arm of his chair with her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips on his. They look so foolishly in love I want to puke.

When they hear me enter the room, Katniss hops down and unwraps herself from him, still keeping hold of one of his hands. “Prim! Sorry, we were just-”

“Don’t worry about it,” I interrupt with a smile. “Hi, Peeta.”

“Hey, there kid,” he says with a smile. He looks so clean and healthy and beautiful, I can hardly recognize him. He’s regained some of the muscle mass he had lost, and his blue eyes are clear and happy. In typical Peeta fashion, his blond curls are a touch too long.

Katniss looks between us and clears her throat. “I’m gonna -” She nods her head toward the hall. “They have hot chocolate in the kitchen. Do you want one, Prim?”

“Sure.”

She squeezes Peeta’s hand, then leaves the two of us alone.

“I guess I shouldn’t be calling you ‘kid’ anymore,” Peeta says. “You had a birthday, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” My birthday was in the middle of Peeta’s hospitalization; the best gift I got was the fact that he started improving shortly after.

“Thirteen,” he says, shaking his head. “A real lady of the world.” The smile falls from his face, replaced by a contrite expression. “Prim, I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” I ask. Wasn’t _I_ the one that kept them apart all those weeks? Made Katniss sneak around, and choose between me and him?

“For lying to you. All that time, when we would meet up at the creek, I wasn’t being honest with you. And I never should have put Katniss in a position where she had to lie to you, too.”

“I didn’t give her much choice,” I admit. “Besides, if anyone should apologize here, it’s me.”

“Why?” He looks genuinely confused.

“Because,” I start, tears springing to my eyes as my worries finally surface. “It’s my fault you got hurt. My fault you lost your leg.”

“What?!” he says, shaking his head. “No, Prim, it’s not-”

“It is!” I cry. “If it wasn’t for me keeping you guys apart, you never would have been distracted. And the tourniquet was my idea. Maybe-”

“Maybe nothing,” Peeta insists, rolling his chair closer and taking my hand. “Prim, you _saved my life_ . Don’t you see that? The doctors said there was almost no chance I could have kept my leg after an injury like that. It was a miracle I didn’t bleed to death right there in that field! You and your mom _saved_ me.”

He squeezes my hand until I meet his eyes. “As for me being distracted, that was totally my fault. I had no business working with that type of machinery when I wasn’t really focused. I have no one to blame but myself. Okay?”

I shrug. I feel a little better talking about it, but it will take some time for me to truly believe it.

Peeta seems to think for a moment. “Hey, I know something that might cheer you up. C’mon.” He wheels the chair back to a table near his window. “Part of my therapy is working on daily activities, doing things like getting dressed and cooking for myself again. And so-” He nods his head at a plate on the table. “I made this for you. Happy birthday, Prim.”

It’s a golden cupcake with a buttery frosting, decorated with perfectly formed tiny yellow primroses. “Thank you,” I whisper, and I find myself welling up all over again. These teenage hormones are annoying as hell.

“Everything okay?” Katniss asks nervously from the doorway.

“Sure. Except my incredible baking skills made Prim cry,” Peeta says. “Ow!” he says, dramatically rubbing his arm where I punched him.

Katniss laughs as she hands each of us a styrofoam cup. “You deserved that, baker boy.”

“Hey, our parents are dating now, so I’m practically your brother. It is my job to tease you both mercilessly.”

“I don’t want to talk about them right now,” Katniss grumbles. She hasn’t been taking Mom’s new relationship very well. I think it’s easier for me to accept because I was only eight when Dad died; Katniss is still having a really hard time watching Mom move on.

Sensing the mood change, Peeta snaps his fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot! I made these this morning, too. For you.” He pulls back a towel and shows Katniss a bowl of small brown rolls. She scowls down at them. “C’mon, try one. They’ll be delicious with the hot chocolate.”

Katniss debates for a moment before giving in. “Fine,” she says, ripping a piece off one of the buns and popping it in her mouth. “Mmm. Wow, these are-” She pulls another piece off, dipping it into her hot chocolate before swallowing it with a moan. “You gotta try one, Prim. These are amazing, Peeta.”

“Thanks,” he says, barely holding back a proud smile.

I take a bite and grunt my approval through a mouthful of salty, cheesy heaven. “She's right, these are incredible.”

“Well, I guess I’ve proved my theory,” Peeta says.

“What theory?” Katniss asks, eyes narrowed.

“That the way to the Everdeen girls’ hearts is through their stomachs.”

“Hey!” Katniss says, kicking at his foot.

“Oof!” he says, doubling over with a grimace.

Katniss panics. “Oh, no - I’m sorry Peeta! I didn't mean to hit you that hard! Are you okay? What can I do?”

“Can you…” he whispers.

“What?” she says.

“Lean down here for a minute,” he says.

“Sure,” Katniss whispers back, crouching down beside him.

When her head is near his, he looks at her with puppy dog eyes. “A kiss wouldn't hurt.”

“Peeta!” Katniss stands up, an angry scowl on her face. She tries to step away, but Peeta grabs her hand.

“Hey, come back. I’m sorry Katniss. I was just kidding.”

“That wasn't funny,” she snaps back.

“You're right. I'm sorry.” He tugs her closer and kisses the back of her hand. “Forgive me?” He looks genuinely nervous as he watches Katniss bite her lip. “Please?”

“Fine,” she finally says. “I forgive you.”

His face lights up, and he kisses her hand again. _Blech_.

“Mr. Mellark?” A nurse pokes her head into the room. “I'm here to take you down to PT.”

“Okay, thanks.” He gives us both a smile, his gaze lingering on Katniss for much longer. “Well, I gotta go. It’ll probably be an hour or so…”

Katniss glances at me, then back at him. “Okay. I have some chores I’ve got to do at home.”

“Okay,” he says sadly, but he makes no move to leave. “So... I guess I'll just see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Unless I finish up early. I guess I could maybe come back before dinner?” She glances back at me. “Only if that's okay with-”

“It's fine,” I say rolling my eyes. Even I know that weekends are their only real time together. “And I can help with your chores, if it comes to that.”

“Thank you, Prim,” Katniss says, giving me a big hug.

“Yes, thank you,” Peeta says with a smile. “Well, I better get going.”

“Us, too,” Katniss says, leaning down and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Both of them sport a matching blush. “I’ll see you later,” she murmurs.

“Later,” he repeats, a happy glow on his face. He rolls his chair toward the hall and the waiting nurse. “And I’ll see you later, too, kid,” Peeta says over his shoulder. “Try not to miss me too much when you eat that cupcake.”

I laugh as he wheels out of sight.

I might as well get used to the teasing. No matter what happens in Mom’s dating life, I have a pretty good feeling that Peeta Mellark will be my brother one of these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I have had this story inside me for over two years now, and I'm so grateful for Jessa/misshoneywell and another round of Prompts in Panem to give me the kick to finally finish. Thank you also to Caryn/papofglencoe for the last minute beta job; you saved me from an editing nightmare! :) Hope you all enjoyed. Now back to working on A Softer Place to Land!

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by/loosely based on the film The Man in the Moon (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0102388/). It was meant to be a one-shot but ended up a little longer than I anticipated. The second half will be coming soon!


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